


Touch Your Thoughts Against My Skin

by lxstll



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Author doesn't know what they're doing, Hands, M/M, No Dialogue, there's also no names mentioned but it's from Shiro's perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 19:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lxstll/pseuds/lxstll
Summary: He's loved and it's bruising.





	Touch Your Thoughts Against My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> i... haven't written anything for like... over a year???  
anyway, i had this sitting.... unfinished and lonely, in my drafts, a relic of the days when i roamed the internet as a filthy Sheith Hands™ loving gremlin and decided to finish her up so be gentle with all.... 475..... words of her......

Bruising.

One searing line down his bare spine, only burning at the contact then freezing over once it’s moved on. Something bone-deep and dangerous, the soft glide of fingers over tight and flaming skin, slowly tracing down and over each vertebra, a silent question and hopeful prayer.

_ Are you okay? _

It’s the tip of the cliff that has a myriad of other questions laying at its base. 

A simple question being asked by the blunt nails pushing against soft flesh.

A question he doesn’t have an answer to.

But he could lie. Could turn around to grab the hand resting on the middle of his back and pretend to have it all together. Pretend that he’s not exhausted, not so mentally drained that he feels nearly numb to everything around him. He plans on doing just that until he feels fingers moving again, the pressure of nails more acute on his tensed muscle.

_ Don’t lie to me. _

He can sense the near begging in its presentation, the almost cry of desperation as it makes the journey upwards.

It moves faster now, more confident, more intent.

_ You don’t have to pretend with me. _

The palm pushing flat in between his scapulas is screaming at him to open up, shouting at him to drop the need to be strong one more time.

He feels as the hand moves up, hears his breath hitch, as it slowly makes its way to the base of his neck, then forward, soft against the outside of his throat as each finger begins to sink slightly into his flesh; it’s hard enough to feel, soft enough to not cause any damage.

_ You can trust me. _

_ Please let me take care of you. _

There’s another hand now, it’s shaking, movements bordering on unsure as though its company could ever be anything other than welcomed.

Nails drag from his waist and over his ribs as they expand before they cut across one of his pectorals, halting at the centre of his sternum, digging lightly, leaving behind faint crescent indentations in their place until a palm rests over them.

Directly atop his heart.

_ I love you. _

It’s gentle and kind.

And it breaks him.

He hasn’t registered the tears in his eyes until he feels one make a path along his cheek, isn’t able to hear the sob he feels in his chest over the blood now pounding in his ears.

The hand still on his throat is moving down now, covering the hand on his chest, pushing him back until he makes contact with a chest on his shoulders and pushing again; trying desperately to ensure the intended message gets across.

Tender despite the aggressive front it puts on.

_ I love you. _

He knows this.

He cherishes this.

Parts of him still don’t want to accept it.

He is loved and it is bruising.

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell i didn't know how to fucking finish this??  
also.... commas.................. so many (21) commas


End file.
